


Pounding the Pavement (Running on Empty)

by chibi_nightowl



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Life changing injuries, Moving, Road Trips, Running, Tim stretches his wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 02:39:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11980341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_nightowl/pseuds/chibi_nightowl
Summary: “I’ve lost all of you at some point, Tim. All except you.” Bruce pauses, seeking and struggling to find therightwords. “Out of all of us, if you were to step away, I think you’d be able to stay away. To be normal."It’s okay if you leave before you’re taken away.“I’ll never be normal, Bruce,” Tim replies thoughtfully. “It’s not in the cards. But I think…I think when I’m well enough, I need a change of scenery. A morepermanentone.”





	Pounding the Pavement (Running on Empty)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is heavily inspired by my recent trip to San Francisco. I love that city. 
> 
> Also, a special shout out to comicroute for convincing me to use the more positive ending than the one I originally planned.

Tim loves the time he can spend with the Titans. It's freeing in a way he no longer feels back in Gotham. The stress from WE and his responsibilities as Red Robin (too many cases, not enough time) vanish while he's in California.   
  
Not to say that he fully escapes being Red Robin; he _is_ a Titan after all and trouble may as well be the team motto. Rather, while he's in San Francisco, he gets to be _Tim_.  
  
Tim, whose best friends are the clone of the Man of Steel and the grandson of the fastest man alive. Tim, who's completely human but is more than capable of holding his own with the powerhouse that is the protégé of Wonder Woman. Other members come and go, but the four of them, together, well, Tim's firmly of the opinion that between the four of them there's nothing they can't accomplish.   
  
He still nerds out a little over that fact sometimes.   
  
But even amongst his friends, sometimes Tim just needs time to himself.   
  
So he runs.   
  
He'll leave the tower, dressed in jogging clothes and sneakers, and pound the pavement. Call him strange, but he _likes_ Pacific Heights with its steep hills. Arms pumping, calves burning, he'll work his way up the hill and run full tilt back down. Bart likes to run this route with him sometimes, zooming up and down each street in a flash.   
  
"Come on, Tim! I've been up and down these hills five times already!"  
  
_"Shut."_ Gasp. _"Up."_ Gasp.   
  
But when he wants to take it easy and just _run_ , Tim goes to Golden Gate Park. Miles of winding road and trails within a wonderfully wooded area. Sometimes he'll let himself play tourist and checkout some of the attractions in the park itself. The California Academy of Sciences is a favorite but he also enjoys the San Francisco Botanical Garden. But for the most part, he just goes there to run.   
  
It's humid a lot of the time, but it's a cool humidity that Gotham rarely ever seems to get, even located as it is along the ocean and almost the same latitude. When the wind blows in off the ocean, the air is delightfully _alive_ and awash with the scent of the salty air, at least if he's at the west side of the park. The smell of the earth and trees mixed with the sea air is refreshing and it never fails to invigorate his body and sooth raw nerves.  
  
Dick jokes about how he needs to find his chill. This is it, right here.   
  
So he runs. 

Sometimes Tim thinks he should just move here permanently. Telecommuting is a thing after all. 

The idea grows stronger with each visit, as leaving becomes that much more difficult. He knows his friends see it. 

“Gotham is gonna kill him someday,” Kon’s bemoaned to Cassie on more than one occasion. They think he can’t hear them when he’s half asleep on the sofa, head in Cassie’s lap and her strong fingers running soothing circles in his scalp. 

“That’s his choice to make, hon. His visits are getting more frequent though. And he’s staying longer.” 

Are they? Tim hasn’t noticed. He buries his cold feet under Kon’s thigh and tries to ignore the thought. He’s _here_ , not back _there_. This is _his_ time. 

Time to be Tim. It’s so hard to be Tim in Gotham. 

The thought niggles him. An earworm that persistently makes itself heard, louder and louder when he returns to Gotham. 

_Gotham has plenty of protectors. You wanted Red Robin to be more than just one of Gotham’s own. You’re more than what Gotham makes you. You know this is what Bruce is waiting for…for you to finally leave the nest and spread your wings. You’re not Dick Grayson. You’re not Jason Todd. You’re Tim Drake. You’re Red Robin._  
  
The next time, he arrives with two suitcases full of clothes and personal effects. 

He ignores the pleased expressions Bart and Kon share as they _help_ him unpack. More like taking things out, holding them up, and making smart comments about his wardrobe choices. Like either of them have room to talk. 

“Did you leave anything back in Gotham, Tim? I can run and get it for you,” Bart offers, his amber eyes alight with excitement. 

Kon laughs and slaps Tim on the back. “He isn’t moving in permanently, you know that. He left his coffeepot back home.” 

They know him so well. 

He stays a month. It’s amazing what it does for his soul. Seven to eight hours of sleep almost every night helps too. He’d forgotten what it was like not to have a sleep debt. 

But, since this is his life, Gotham makes him pay for it with a vengeance when he finally returns. 

And this time, it’s the last straw. 

Alfred does his best and calls in Dr. Thompkins when it becomes apparent how severe his injuries are. A lucky (unlucky) stab on his right side penetrated his armor, slid up and between his ribs to hit his liver. It also punctures his diaphragm. To top it all off, he was tossed like so much rubbish out of a moving car. 

A couple emergency surgeries later, Tim wakens to find he not only has multiple broken ribs, a broken arm, and a broken collarbone, he now has only 50% of his liver. 

“It’ll grow back!” Dick tries to cheer him up. 

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” Tim bites back scathingly. The news of missing a rather massive chunk of a rather important organ has infuriated him. 

Dick presses on. “The liver, along with the skin, are the two organs we have that can repair themselves like this.” 

“But until it does, there goes what remains of my immune system.” A very valid concern and the reason why Dr. Thompkins, for the time being, makes everyone at least wear a mask over their mouths and nose around Tim. 

Damian offers to get him a human-sized hamster ball. “Since it’s clear you can’t exist outside of a bubble.” 

Dick and Tim aren’t amused, but Jason, when he finds out about it, thinks it’s hilarious. He sneaks in to the Manor one night with a colored assortment of the balls and leaves them for Tim because he’s an asshole like that. 

Tim takes great pleasure in chucking the orange one at his head and enjoys the sound it makes bouncing off the back of his red helmet as Jason tries to sneak out. 

“Hehe…there’s life to you yet, Replacement. Try and keep it that way.” 

It’s the closest Jason’s ever come to saying he cares about Tim’s welfare. 

Bruce though…Bruce is concerned. He spends long hours at Tim’s side, waking and sleeping. As per his usual habits, he blames himself for the severity of his son’s injuries. 

“It’s not your fault, Bruce,” Tim tells him one night while they’re snacking on a veggie tray Alfred brought up for them (the butler is convinced Tim needs to be as vegan as possible to help with his healing liver). 

“Isn’t it? If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been Robin. You wouldn’t _be_ Red Robin.” 

“That’s a stretch this time and you know it. I know you’ve already analyzed the crap out of my uniform to see what malfunctioned. He got lucky, Bruce.” They’re all lucky to come home each night. Training and equipment help, but it’s _Gotham_ and they all know what a cruel mistress she is. 

There’s irony in there somewhere as Jason wasn’t even in Gotham when he was killed. But he was Robin, so perhaps the connection was enough. 

“I’ve lost all of you at some point, Tim. All except you.” Bruce pauses, seeking and struggling to find the _right_ words. “Out of all of us, if you were to step away, I think you’d be able to stay away. To be normal." 

His eyes are haunted, so it’s easy to see the thoughts behind the words of what he’s trying to convey. 

_It’s okay if you leave before you’re taken away._

A couple of years ago, Tim would have taken the words as a rejection. A rejection that everything he’s done, everything he _is_ , has been for nothing. That he’s not good enough. But, with age comes wisdom (and Cassie forcing/helping him through some rather tough conversations with Kon and Bart, hell, even her, about what this life has done to them) and Tim knows what he brings to the table is considerable. Not just as Red Robin, but as Tim Wayne. 

For him to _leave_ isn’t a rejection. It’s an invitation to discover who _he_ is. This life has been particularly brutal on him, but he keeps pulling through, sometimes barely by the skin of his teeth. 

“I’ll never be normal, Bruce,” Tim replies thoughtfully. “It’s not in the cards. But I think…I think when I’m well enough, I need a change of scenery. A more _permanent_ one.” 

It’s a credit to Bruce that he only nods in agreement and doesn’t try to force anything else. 

The next night, he sits next to Tim in his large bed and they go over real estate ads in San Francisco together. 

Tim is banned from all forms of travel for at least six weeks by Dr. Thompkins, but Bruce takes the time to act as his eyes and ears to check out some of the places they find. Dick is upset about the planned move, but gamely helps him with his packing as Tim still has a broken wing on top of everything else. Damian does too, with plenty of comments about how he’s only doing it so as to get him out of here faster. But Tim catches him hiding a picture he’d had framed of the three of them. Dick and Tim are grinning like loons and proudly wearing Wonder Woman t-shirts while Damian is scowling between them in his. 

That’s okay. Tim can print another. 

Jason… well, Tim’s not sure what Jason thinks about it. He never says and Tim never asks, but he comes by the Manor more often (always at night and when Bruce is away) and they’ll talk about random things. Books, mostly, but Tim thinks he may have converted him to the dark side when he shows interest in a steampunk D&D game that Tim’s been amusing himself with plotting out. 

If he ever comes to visit San Francisco, Tim thinks it may be okay. 

Stephanie isn’t happy about the move, but she gets it. Out of all of them, she’s been on the receiving end when Tim chooses to open up and is most often the one to push him out the door and across the country to what she calls his _happy place_. 

She’s wrapped around him in bed, carefully making sure she’s not aggravating any of his injuries. There’s nothing sexual about it, but it’s intimate in a way Tim wishes he has the confidence to act on. But he knows how hard Stephanie has struggled to find her place in Gotham, to prove to everyone (to _him_ ) that she belongs here just as much as they do. He can’t take it away from her. 

“How many rooms does your new place have?” she asks quietly. Her face is inches from his, resting on one of his many pillows. Her blonde hair gleams in the sun streaming in through his window. It’s a beautiful day outside and it irks him that he’s stuck inside. 

“Three. The windows in the master bedroom look out over the Pacific.” The real estate pictures hadn’t lied and neither did Bruce when he checked it out. He informed Tim over the phone in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t purchase this place, he was going to. 

“That sounds amazing,” Steph replies dreamily. 

“When the sun’s shining, yeah.” Tim chuckles and ignores the little flash of pain it causes his still healing ribs. “I’ll turn one of the guest rooms into an office, but the third will be ready for you whenever you want.” 

It’s the closest thing he allows himself to say to her. That he wants her by his side. 

“But I want the room with the ocean view,” she teases, winking playfully. 

“I _suppose_ I can sleep in the guest room in my own house when you’re there.” Tim makes a face which has the young woman giggling. 

“Nah, we’ll share. I wouldn’t want to kick you out of your bed.” 

Tim hopes he manages to suppress his reaction to Steph’s words fast enough. Things are better between them but he still feels guilty over what he said when she became Batgirl. Not exactly his shining moment and saying stress, worry, and his own need to prove himself within the context of the family only goes so far. She doesn’t need his mooning over her on top of everything else. 

Still, the surprisingly perceptive blonde seems to pick up on something as her blue gaze narrows slightly. He should know all too well by now that she’s fluent in _Tim_ , especially when he’s being the awkward teenager he no longer is. He’d celebrated his 20th birthday with his friends before returning to Gotham. Stephanie had dragged him all over town when he was back, doing things together with Cass that they thought he’d enjoy. 

It was a great day, one Tim remembers fondly. Especially the end when Steph had given him a birthday kiss, a simple press of warm, glossy lips against his that lasted a hair longer than it should have. 

“I graduate in the spring,” Steph continues slowly, thoughtfully. Her eyes drop before focusing on him again. “Fall semester’s just barely started. But if you don’t come home for the holidays, I’ll steal a plane to come see you. You’ll have to show me all the best places to jog.” 

She knows everything about his ongoing love affair with Golden Gate Park. The thought of showing her his favorite place sends a warm thrill through his veins. He doesn’t try to hide it this time. 

“And eat,” he promises. “You’ll love the food.” 

“Hmm…food.” They’ve had an ongoing joke for years over her love for good food. _Food-gasm_ is a word in Steph’s vocabulary. Her eyes suddenly light up in excitement and she grins. “Isn’t Napa Valley around there somewhere? You can take me on a wine tasting tour!” 

“Whatever you want,” Tim promises again. 

“Just keep yourself in one piece until I get there,” Stephanie replies, turning solemn. “You Titans get yourselves in a lot of trouble sometimes.” 

“And you don’t?” he dishes right back. 

“I think the trouble increases exponentially the more Superboy has to hit something.” 

So very true. 

Nothing more is said about sleeping arrangements but Tim decides as he dozes off with Stephanie pressed against him that this is something he could certainly get used to. Perhaps next year they’ll both be in a better place where they can finally talk about it. 

“Sounds good to me,” she whispers in his ear, her breath tickling the overly long hair. 

His moving schedule is finally set after Dr. Thompkins announces his liver is functioning normally again and removes the bandages from his broken ribs. They’re still tender, but with the cast and sling Tim sports for his arm and collarbone, it’s not like he’s going to swing from the rooftops anytime soon. He’s got another three weeks at least with these. 

He’s bound and determined they’ll be off completely before he starts his cross-country road trip. 

Bruce had offered to have all of Tim’s belongings, along with his gear and equipment, shipped for him, but the appeal of driving across country on his own is too great. The moving van is massive as it needs to carry a good deal of electronics and other gadgetry, not to mention his motorcycle. His Redbird, in civilian mode, will be hitched to the back and towed. 

Dick and Jason both look put out when Tim dispels their dreams of driving his vehicles across the country for him. 

“C’mon, Replacement. I’ll have Redbird there in one piece a week before you arrive in that damn van. I’ll even wash and wax her and give her a free tune-up,” Jason coaxes. It’s tempting actually as the second Robin is probably the best mechanic in the family. 

Still, the thought of Jason driving _his_ car without adult supervision is enough to make Tim decline. “Only if Bruce drives with you.” Or stick a caveat on it that he knows will make him back down. 

The face he makes is worth it. 

Dick isn’t as easy to shake off. 

“You’re driving all by yourself. Come on, Tim. At least let _one_ of us come with,” he tries as he’s getting ready for patrol one night a couple days before Tim’s scheduled to leave. 

Tim grins unrepentantly at his brother from his place in front of the Batcomputer where he’s transferring files. “I never said I was driving alone. I just said none of you were allowed to drive my vehicles for me.” 

“Then who?” Dick trails off questioningly. 

“What’s a cross-country road trip without my best friends?” 

Dick starts laughing. It’s obvious he gets it now. “Two of the fastest people in the world and you’re going to make them go at a snail’s pace in that van.” 

The irony isn’t lost on Tim either. “They’re allowed to bail whenever they want.” 

And they do. Two days into the trip, Bart breaks into the back of the van and starts carrying whatever he can ahead to Tim’s new house. 

“Tim, you’re going so _ssssllllloooooowwwww._ ” 

“I’m going highway speed,” he tries, but the aptly named former Impulse just rolls his eyes. 

“Seriously, when I agreed to this, I didn’t think you were actually going to _drive_ the entire way.” 

“Then what did you think?” 

“That we’d go for a day or so, then Kon would pick up the van and fly it across country and we’d take the Redbird the rest of the way.” Bart grins. He loves driving (or flying) anything designed by the Bats. Not that he does a good job of it, having crashed one Batmobile and terrorized Smallville with the Batplane, but for some reason, Tim still lets him behind the wheel. 

It’s the eyes, he decides. Bart has those puppy dog eyes and a childlike innocence about him that he’s not afraid to wield as expertly as Tim handles his bo-staff. 

On the other side of Bart on the long bench seat in the van, Tim catches Kon’s eye. The other man shrugs. “I don’t care either way, dude. But say the word and we’ll be airborne, Redbird and all.” 

Tim gives in when they get to Smallville and take a break for a few days at the Kent farm. Or rather, he wakes up one morning to find the van gone and the Redbird looking alone in front of the house. 

Kon looks rather sheepish when he comes in after breakfast. 

“It’s the eyes, man! I swear!” 

Bart grins unrepentantly. “I’ll drive!” 

“No!” 

(The speedster is only allowed to drive on straightaways with Kon and Tim yelling at him to slow down and holy crap, that’s a cop! Floor it!!) 

The four days it was supposed to take to get to San Francisco from Smallville turns into two. 

Cassie’s waiting for them when they arrive. She’s already unloaded the van and has set up some of Tim’s furniture. More importantly, she’s done some grocery shopping. 

“This place is amazing, Tim,” she gushes after releasing Tim from a tight hug. “You picked a good one.” 

“You mean Bruce did.” 

Cassie gives him a pointed look. “Like you didn’t have him Facetiming you the entire time he was here and showing you every little thing.” 

Tim rubs the back of his head sheepishly because she’s totally called him on that one. 

“Tim!” Kon interrupts from the kitchen where he’s waving a menu around and holding up his phone. “I need your credit card to pay for this.” 

“What did you order?” 

“Sushi!” 

“And pizza!” Bart chimes in excitedly. “I’ll go get it!” 

Tim shakes his head, but hands over his card. 

They may not be in Titan’s Tower, but he’s already feeling like he’s home. 

Which, Tim supposes later as he watches Bart and Kon try and set up his TV and gaming systems while Cassie laughs at them both (and knowing he’ll have to fix everything before they’re done), is the point of all this. 

The next morning, Tim leaves early before anyone else wakes up. There’s something he’s been dying to do since he arrived yesterday and hasn’t had the chance until now. 

He runs.   
  
It's foggy but overhead the sky lightening up as the sun rises. The city still sleeps, but even there are signals that it's starting to awaken. The only sound he hears, that registers, is the sound of his sneakers on the pavement.   
  
Soon enough, Tim's in the park, _his park_ , and the sounds of the awakening city disappear.   
  
There are other joggers around but he pays them no mind. They're lost in their music, trying to get a quick run in before they have to face their day and get on with the grind.  

Tim used to run to escape. The weight previously on his shoulders no longer burdens him. No more juggling act to maintain to keep the house of cards from collapsing. 

Now, he runs because he’s _free._  
  
The sound of another runner approaches him from behind and starts keeping pace on his right. A glance reveals Cassie running with him, her long blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail and wearing clothes he's used to seeing her spar in.   
  
She flashes him a smile but doesn't say anything at his amused smirk. She doesn't need to. It's enough that she's here and they both know it.   
  
At the next corner, another runner joins them, his tread louder and harder than theirs like he's used to wearing heavier shoes. To be fair, Kon usually wears heavy farm boots, not jogging sneakers. He brackets Tim on the left and the three of them run on. 

Red Robin.  
  
Wonder Girl.  
  
Superboy.  
  
Their own version of the Trinity so many call their mentors. But unlike them, they're not three.   
  
They're four.   
  
From behind them, in front of them, all around them, comes the gust of wind, the crackle of lightning, and the taste of ozone.   
  
Kid Flash has joined them, keeping pace in his own way, occasionally slowing down enough that Tim can make out Bart’s face and the dopey grin he wears as he exaggerates running in slow motion. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this complete in his life. _This_ is what Tim needed, more than anything. The balm on his soul. The warm blanket in the cold night. 

Here is where he belongs.

No one says anything. But his friends, who can all move at speeds his conditioned, but still human body can’t, run with him, side by side, keeping his pace in their own way.   
  
The remaining fragments of chaos in his mind fades away leaving only quiet zen in its place.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I spent way too much time researching liver function and regeneration. And yes, it really does repair and regrow itself to the proportional size it was before if as little as 25% of the original organ remains.


End file.
